Wrecked
by Culture Shockk
Summary: A commercial flight from Bodhum to Palumpolum crashes on an uncharted island. Not knowing whether they'll ever be found, passenger Lightning Farron begins chronicling the everyday challenges of keeping the group alive while learning what it is that she needs to survive in this new life as well.


**Day 6**

I should probably start documenting this... in case we're not found in time but someone eventually comes across this desolate beach and finds this journal…

They can tell the world what happened to us. The loved ones of those stuck here with me can get closure. Someone can tell Cid.

My name is Claire 'Lightning' Farron. I am a sergeant in Bodhum's Guardian Corps ranks.

My sister's name is Serah Farron. She is a student at Bodhum U, majoring in elementary education.

We are 2 of the survivors of Flight COC9-52.

I don't feel like writing anymore.

**Day 7**

I don't know where to start, so I guess I should go back to the beginning. We were finally taking a vacation. Everyone said I needed it, and it was nice while it lasted. The airport was quiet. Everyone looked laidback and no one was rushing. Maybe it was the calm before the storm.

When we reached our gate, all the seats were filled. It was an overbooked flight and the attendants were asking for volunteers to give up a spot on the plane. Those volunteers don't know just how much more they were gaining than a 200 gil voucher.

We had just decided to stand near the trash bins when a woman with bronze skin and deep green eyes beckoned us over. She had been sitting her luggage in two extra chairs but decided to let us have the seats instead.

She started small talk.

'So Palumpolum? Going home or getting away from it?' – from her accent I could tell she wasn't from Bodhum.

'Getting away,' I answered. 'Meeting someone actually.'

'Parents?' She was looking between me and Serah. She could see we were sisters.

'Boyfriend.'

She smiled at me as if she had been expecting that answer. 'Lucky man. I'm actually meeting someone special myself.'

I could only guess the type of person she could be going to meet. She was captivating. Anyone worth her time would have had to been the same.

An attendant made an announcement over the loudspeaker. Our flight had been delayed. Mechanical difficulties. The signs are all so clear now...

Meanwhile, the woman offered us snacks. Told us about places in Palumpolum we needed to visit—an artifact museum, a wildlife refuge, a grilled hedgefrog shack. She made a few jokes about policemen when Serah told her about my profession. One even made me smile.

She asked where we were sitting.

'First class.'

She looked disappointed. She was in the back. 'By the commodes.' (That made Serah laugh.) But she offered to treat us to grilled hedgefrog once we landed.

I never caught her name. I don't even know why I'm writing about her. She seemed very charming—the type of person who's beautiful on the inside and out. I know she must be missed. So if anyone finds this and knows who the mystery woman is, know that I am sorry for your loss.

Raining. Will continue if stops.

**Day 9**

We all have jobs here. I'm still the law. I keep the order.

Serah helps with gathering food. There are some fruit trees near the beach. We have yet to explore further into the island's jungle. We hear sounds at night from the beasts that live within. We are neither healthy enough nor have the right weapons to take our chances against them, but soon we may have no other choice…

Sazh Katzroy is our engineer. He was the plane's pilot. He's been trying to get the radio to work, but has had no luck.

Yaag Rosch has been overseeing construction. On the outskirts of the beach, he's been getting the men to build a chain of bungalows in the trees. When it gets too dark to work on that, he then works on a raft. I don't like Yaag in any sense of the word. He starts fights, steals, and picks on the weak, but he is determined to get off this beach. We need that determination.

Nora Estheim is our doctor. She is a nurse from Palumpolum and has somehow already fallen into the role of everyone's mother figure. Even Yaag respects her. She is the one person who can talk sense into him at times. This makes my job a lot easier.

**Day 12**

We know what lives in the jungle now.

It came around dusk. The bare bones of our tree homes are finished. They could use a lot more work, but they can support our weight and keep out some of the rain.

We were celebrating. We had caught some fish and were frying them on the beach. It could have been the smell or the smoke. Maybe both. Maybe neither. But it came flying out of the jungle, a huge black dog on its hind legs with a razor contraption attached to a forepaw. No one expected it.

Yaag was able to ward it off by setting what was left of the plane's torn front half on fire, but by then it was too late.

It took five lives.

Our homes in the trees have now become our most important possessions. I held Serah close to me as she slept that night—afraid to let go. My biggest fear is no longer that we'll die on this island. It is now instead how. I don't know which thought terrifies me more—if I'll go first or Serah.

**Day 16**

The camp is starting to split.

Yaag is getting impatient with rules. He believes there should be a hierarchy. That the strongest should get more food, water, space, and privileges than those who are physically weaker.

'Why should we do the brunt of the work and get rewarded the same rations as the berry pickers?'

'Because there's not enough resources.'

'Then don't you think the backbone of this society needs them more than anyone else?'

Crazy thing is—he's getting support. And it's from all the healthy bodies that we need for fishing and building.

'Yaag built our tree homes.'

'Yaag scared away the behemoth.'

Yaag is becoming a pain in my ass.

**Day 21**

The food problem is temporarily fixed. There is a species of bird on this island—a rather dumb species of bird—that travels in heavy flocks and does not fear us as predators. They must not be used to other animals joining them in the trees. We are easily able to climb to the upper canopies and pluck them from their branches.

The extra food seems to have quieted Yaag for now.

**Day 24**

People are starting to get sick. It's bad. Losing color, vomiting, breaking into fever… We've had two fatalities so far and a few more who are showing symptoms. Nora is one of them and is too weak to help. We don't know what to do.

Yaag wants all the sick to be banned from the trees. 'They could be contagious.'

That would be like sentencing them to death. I wouldn't allow it.

'Look at them. They're practically dead anyway!'

'You would throw Nora down into the jungle to die like some animal after all she's done for you?'

That shuts him up.

Nora had already nursed some of his injuries back to health.

**Day 26**

Nora has passed away.

**Day 27**

Yaag is breathing down my neck again. He wants the sick gone and he wants them gone now. One of the sick went missing last night, but one of the women swears she heard muffled yelling and dragging.

I know it was Yaag. If I can prove it, he will pay.

**Day 28**

Serah is sick.

She woke up pale and soaked in sweat.

Yaag is trying to use her against me—telling everyone that the reason I'm putting everyone else in danger is because my sister has the bug.

He tried to enter our home but I punched him. Hard. His nose started bleeding and my hand bruised, but I wouldn't let him near Serah. He's going to lick his wounds and think of a new approach, but if he puts a finger on Serah, I will kill him.

I WILL kill him.

**Day 29**

There was a storm last night. It almost ripped the thatched roof off of our home. I heard screaming. I didn't want to leave Serah alone, but I have a duty to these people. I rushed out onto one of the planks that connects our trees and slipped.

The rain had made everything slippery.

I landed weird on my arm. It's still in a lot of pain. Sazh urged me to go back inside before anyone saw—he and some of the others would help out there. But it was too late. Yaag was staring across the trees from the entrance of his abode.

He knows I'm hurt, and I know he'll try to use it against me.

**Day 30**

The storm caused a lot of damage. We needed more supplies to rebuild the homes that had been broken. That required us to take a trip into a shallow part of jungle. I didn't want to leave Serah, but with so many sick, the trip needed as many able-bodied people as it could get. Even with an injured arm, I am more capable than many of the others.

Sazh agreed to watch Serah while I was gone. He said he'd guard her like he would his own little boy. He talks about his son a lot. If one day he ever reads this journal: Your father was always thinking of you.

Yaag knew where all the resources could be found. He led the way. The further we got, the more suspicious I became. When I realized we weren't just fishing for supplies, it was already too late. Yaag had me pinned to a tree by my good arm. The other arm he was twisting.

The others just stood back and watched as I cried out in pain. I went in for a head butt, but he pulled away. He smiled at me. He was sure he had won, but his smile didn't last long.

A load roar boomed from nearby and the trees gave way.

The huge hound that had attacked us on the beach was rushing through the jungle.

Yaag froze. I don't know whether it was from shock or fear, but either way he still had me pinned to the tree. I yelled at him to let me go—to do something! But he stayed still, just waiting for the beast to overtake us.

There was another cry from somewhere above.

Something shot through the air and landed on the hound's back.

It was a woman.

The hound started bucking like a bull. He wanted her off. From behind her, the woman pulled out a long, sharp stick and shoved it into the back of the hound's neck. The beast roared and bucked even harder. The woman was holding on for her life.

Another figure rushed from out of the trees—this one was man. A very big man. He was holding a huge branch with a blazing fire on the end of it. He waved it frantically at the beast, singing one of its hind legs as the woman took her chance to leap from the thing's back. The beast went whimpering off into the jungle defeated.

Yaag no longer had me pinned to the tree. He was instead backing away from where the hound once stood while the strangers turned to look at us.

'You,' the woman said, looking directly at me.

I recognized her immediately.

She was the woman from the gate.

**Day x**

The woman's name is Fang, and she's the one who I have to thank for saving my sister's life.

I don't know what day it is anymore from the sleepless nights I spent in our treetop, watching over Serah as she tossed and turned in her sleep and staring at our doorway in case Yaag or any of his followers decided to pay a visit.

Serah has been getting better though. She isn't as hot and has regained some of her appetite. Even her color is starting to return. I still fear for her, but she's making a good recovery.

After the fight with the hound in the jungle, the woman—Fang—quickly swooped down on us, asking how many of us were there. Did we have food? Supplies? A plan?

I told her how many people were in our camp, but that the number was dwindling due to the strange illness. She immediately asked if we were eating a gray colored bird with a rainbow tail. There had originally been four survivors from the plane's back end. They had lost two from the illness, but they knew a treatment. The big man, Snow, had been sick. Fang was desperate to keep him alive and accidentally found a cure. She immediately rushed into the thicket, calling for us to follow, to gather the ingredients.

**Day Day**

Fang and Snow have visited our camp three days in a row now, each time bringing gifts.

Fang brings more ingredients for the cure. Snow brings animals they've killed. They stop by my tree to check on Serah. Fang even brings small snacks for me. She says I need to keep my strength. Then they go outside to tell stories of their adventures. Our group treats them like celebrities, fighting for their attention and approval–they are the two who have mastered the wilderness. But I've been watching them. No one else sees it, but they are the ones fighting the hardest to be accepted.

This whole time, we've been in a group.

They've been fighting the nightmares of the jungle with no one but each other.

**Day xx**

Serah is getting much better now. She's even gotten strong enough to start taking short walks on the beach with Snow. I don't particularly like this arrangement. I still don't know the man that well, but one thing I've figured out is that he's an idiot. But he's recovered from the sickness before. He knows what Serah is going through. It's an added bonus that Yaag is afraid of him.

He's afraid of both him and Fang.

If not afraid, at least cautious. He cut up holy hell when I offered them the empty tree houses of the departed. He called them outsiders—tail enders that couldn't be trusted. He attacked me in the middle of the jungle, but said that they couldn't be trusted!

Fang says she gets a bad vibe from him. She puts on a real serious act whenever he's near. You would never figure that the woman who pretends to fly a twig fork plane into Serah's mouth to feed her (Serah calls this act insensitive to our situation) is the same stone-faced woman who volunteers to supervise Sazh as he doles out rations. I have a feeling that she saw Yaag pin me to that tree in the jungle. I have a feeling that she may have even brought the hound to us to scare him off me. She says that I don't get enough rest, especially with my injured arm, but I know she doesn't get enough either. She has yet to spend one night in the tree home we offered her. Every night since she's moved here, I've seen her shadow cross our entrance flap before lowering into a sitting position, taking watch like a sentry.

Last night, I invited her inside.

**Day xvy**

Now I know how Fang and Snow had been staying so healthy. Today, Fang took me and Sazh into the jungle while Snow stayed with Serah.

She and Snow's part of the plane crashed deep in the jungle. They quickly had to learn about the wildlife and their behavior. She brought us to a stash of whittled wooden spears that she kept in the trunk of a rotten tree. She then showed us how to find, stalk, and separate animals until you were able to go in for the kill.

With my arm , all I could do was look, but watching Fang try to teach Sazh to use a spear was entertaining. Every once in awhile, in the middle of her instructions and the middle of Sazh's cursing, she'd turn to wink at me.

And once, when she was facing my way and not expecting it, I winked at her instead.

It had been a long time since I had seen anyone smile the way she did.

She promises we'll go hunting together when my arm gets better. I'm looking forward to it.

**Day !**

Sazh heard something on the radio. It was something unintelligible, but something nonetheless. I didn't even know the crappy thing still worked. There may be hope for us yet.

**Day yvx**

Fang has been asking me what I write about when I pull out this journal. I told her events that I think are memorable—things that I don't think should be forgotten even if we eventually are. I expected her to make some sort of joke about it—she teases me a lot. Instead, she asked me to record some things for her.

So here follows:

FANG:

Full name is Oerba Yun Fang.

Gran Pulsian. Make sure you write the Gran.

Works at the Bodhum Zoo and takes night classes in wildlife ecology at Bodhum U.

Likes her dinners the same way she likes her dates (what?): moist and salty. ...(seriously. what?)

Misses Vanille very dearly.

Wants Lightning to know they will not be forgotten. Especially not here.

**Day who knows**

Last night I invited Fang to join me and Serah in bed. She has been sleeping on our floor every night, and I feel bad for not asking her earlier. Maybe it's because our bed is so small. It's just a holey sheet stuffed with leaves, dirt, and moss. The three of us had to huddle close to fit on it.

I know it doesn't seem like a moment worth keeping, but maybe you would have to be there. I didn't know just how tired Fang had been—she is now in charge of the hunting party and giving out rations. She fell asleep instantly once she had curled up with us. Her face looked so peaceful and worry free—it was worth noting.

**Dxxxy**

There was a lot of shouting on the beach today.

Yaag was in the middle of it. So was Snow. And Fang.

He was calling them cannibals. He recalled how we met them in the jungle, saying that they had wanted to attack us until the huge hound showed up. He said that there were two other survivors from their part of the plane, but that they ate them. This is why Fang never gave out enough rations. She wanted to make the group weak so they could eat them too.

Yaag's supporters all agreed with him. I couldn't believe the traction that any of this was getting.

Apparently Fang couldn't either. Her face was serious as sin.

He called for them to be banned from our camp. He called for everyone's support. Only a small fraction gave it.

Finally Fang had enough.

She swiped his legs.

When he got up, he tried to lunge at her. He wasn't quick enough. Fang continued to dodge and trip him until she had her heel buried in his neck with him lying in the sand.

Yaag was enraged.

He and his group left that day, saying they would make their own settlement where people were justly rewarded for their merits. He stole some of our food on his way out.

Good riddance.

**Day 60 maybe?**

It weird how less stressful life is without Yaag around.

We have more resources and less complaining. Fang even found a peaceful spot on the beach where the two of us could lie down and relax.

Imagine that. Being stranded on a deserted island and just now getting a time to sit back and relax.

We talked. Fang drew pictures for me in the sand. I tossed shells into the ocean. Eventually we tried making a sand castle, but we couldn't agree on any of the details, so we ended up having a wet sand ball fight, running through the shallow waves until we got tired and had to lie down.

It was random, but Fang asked if I ever think about the boyfriend I was going to visit before the crash.

I told her the truth. 'Sometimes when I get a moment to myself, I wonder if he's thinking about me. If he's worried or looking for me. If he's given up on us yet or still wants to find us.'

Fang didn't say anything for awhile. 'Are you thinking about him now?'

I told her the truth.

'No.'

**Day idk**

I kissed Fang last night.

I can't exactly say why, but it just happened. We were all curled up in bed together as usual. Serah had slipped in between us and was hugging Fang around her waist with her forehead resting against her chest. Serah usually sleeps in the middle and often alternates between snuggling me or Fang.

She feels safe with Fang. We both do. Maybe that's why it happened.

With Serah scooted so far down between us, our faces were nearly touching. She was gazing at me. I smiled at her, wanting her to know how comical I thought her Serah predicament was. Then I wanted to wish her good night, but instead I leaned forward and kissed her.

And then I kissed her again. And again... holding her there each time before pressing forward again, making each kiss last longer than the last. Then Fang pulled away.

She was breathless—panting. Her eyes went down to the top of Serah's head then back at me. I had moved in so close that I was nearly crushing my sister against her. I picked a bad time to do this.

Fang kissed the bridge of my nose, and curled more into Serah to go to sleep. I closed my eyes to do the same, but my heart was beating way too fast.

**Another day**

Reading back, it's weird to think that there was ever a time when I didn't kiss Fang goodnight.

It's never planned. It just always happens. Something natural. Like the night can't be complete without it.

Serah knows what's going on, but never acknowledges it. No one does. Not even Fang. During the day, it's like it never happens. Maybe once or twice there'll be a tender touch here or a concerned look there, but nothing more that would change our workday. At night, however, Serah has started opting to sleep on the end instead of in the middle. And every night, once we hear the heavy breathing that signifies that Serah is asleep, me and Fang come together.

Sometimes it's just a simple kiss.

Other times we'll be wrapped up in each other, brushing our lips, noses, and cheeks together til late in the night.

Maybe I'm looking for something—security, comfort, reassurance… I don't know. But whatever it is, I feel as if I am finding it in Fang.

**Day Asdf**

Sazh is getting all kinds of weird sounds on the radio. We've tried going deeper into the jungle to look for higher ground. Maybe we could get a better signal. Yesterday we saw a body. It had been decapitated and posted to a tree.

It made Sazh sick. It gave me a horrible feeling.

I told Sazh it was best for us to return to camp. I don't know whether or not to tell everyone else about this.

**Day XyZ**

Things went further last night.

Since our numbers have dropped so much, Serah asked if she could move into one of the vacant trees. I didn't like it, especially after what me and Sazh had seen in the jungle, but if this is our life now, I can't always coddle her.

That didn't stop me from worrying though. Fang could tell. She tried to comfort me. She held me close. Kissed me softly. Rubbed her hand up and down my back. Then she rubbed her hand over different places—letting it caress and explore areas she never would've considered if Serah was around. My own hands became curious as well—as did my lips. Soon we were more entangled than we had ever been before.

Later in the night, as I lay on top of her—spent—I realized just how important she was to me.

She makes this feel like everything isn't so bad. Like it's doable. Like we can survive this.

It's weird because I'm saying this now, but it's not the hormones talking.

Fang is special.

I love her.

**X**

YAAG ROSCH

I WILL FRJIIJJKK KILL HIM IF I GET THE CHANCE

**-####**

It's been a couple of days since the fire.

The damn fire.

Everything had been going so well. We had spent the day before just reinforcing our walls. The next morning we woke up to shouting. I could tell it was Yaag by his voice. It had been dry lately and he was demanding we give him our water. I thought it was nice being able to ignore Yaag for a change. Me and Fang took our time getting dressed.

We should've moved faster.

We heard screams and cracking sounds. We rushed out—Fang was still trying to pull her shirt on. A few of the trees were on fire. Yaag and his followers were on the ground, pitching lit up pieces of brush at her homes. Yaag was then staring at the two us. He looked shocked. He now knows how me and Fang have been spending some of our nights.

'How dare you play house in the homes I built but refuse to give us water!'

The fire was rapidly spreading. I took off across the planks. In the commotion I couldn't see Serah, but I soon spotted Snow leading her to safety. Sazh was helping others escape the flames. Fang went into a rage. She hopped down from our tree to face Yaag, but he had expected it. Someone else appeared from the bushes with one of Fang's spears. He chucked it at her. He wasn't a good aim, but it was good enough. It sliced Fang's leg. She went down.

I started racing to get there, but the treetops were so dry. The fire was everywhere. Flaming branches were dropping all around me. I couldn't see anything over them, but I could hear people's screams. And Fang—grunting in pain. They were beating her.

I didn't have a choice. I had to avoid the flames. I had to take the long way around, dodging my way to the back until I could find a safe place to climb down. I was nearly to the ground when I heard a gunshot ring through the air.

My heart had stopped. I didn't know anyone had a gun. I jumped the rest of the way down, hurting my ankle when I landed. Even with the sore ankle, I ran as fast as I could back to the action. Yaag was gone. Snow was rushing everyone away from the trees and to the beach. Sazh had draped Fang's arm over his shoulder and was trying to drag her away as well. One of Fang's cheeks and her entire midsection were bruised. The cowards had been kicking her while she was down.

She looked dazed and was slightly smiling. 'You waited until now to use that thing?'

Sazh was holding a small handgun in one hand.

**Day Four Hundred and Bajillion**

You know, things really aren't as bad as I'm always making them out to be. Yeah it's crap that we're now homeless on the beach, but it could be worse. What if I was trapped in the desert? Or the arctic tundra? Or on a different island where that awesome gal, Fang, wasn't around? I'd really be screwed then.

But speaking of that Fang, have I ever mentioned how smart, witty, smexy, and just drop-dead gorgeous she is? I really appreciate her being here. Hot damn, I could just pass all the time in the day staring at that tight

NOTE TO SELF: Do not leave the journal unguarded in arms reach of Fang.

But if she ever does grab hold of this again and ends up on this page… I wholly agree with 3 of the things in that last paragraph.

**Not good**

The cut on Fang's leg is infected. We have nothing to treat it with. She can barely walk and is starting to lose color.

I don't know what to do. Why are these things always happening to us?

**Gone**

Fang asked if I could sit on the beach with her. She looked totally drained—totally different. It was like the vitality had been sucked out of her.

There was so much work to be done, but I couldn't refuse. I sat down next to her. I linked my arm in hers and let her lean against my shoulder. We stared out at the ocean. She asked me about my journal.

'Who do you think is going to read it?'

'I don't know.'

'It's not a bad thing… people knowing what happened here. We tried. We really did.'

Her voice cracked as she spoke.

'We got pretty far too. And some of us are going to make it home—'

I didn't want to hear any more and Fang respected that.

Her hand found mine and she interlocked our fingers. 'Remember me?'

'Always.'

She kissed me. I wasn't expecting it. We had never done that in the day before—out in the open. When she pulled away, she asked if I could get her some supplies. Certain leaves, vines, twigs, etc. I dropped them off to her but had to leave to check on the rest of the group. When I returned, she had somehow made a small, uneven ball of tied together leaves.

'Morale is too low. We're on a beach. Why isn't anyone been playing volleyball?'

I told her it was a waste of energy, but she insisted.

There were no teams. There wasn't even a net. There was just us—running through the sand, bumping the ball so it wouldn't touch the ground while Fang sat and 'refereed'. Everyone was laughing. Snow tripped and fell face first in the sand. That especially made me smile. We were still in the middle of our game when we heard the bleating sounds in the distance.

Sazh came rushing out from the trees. I hadn't even noticed he wasn't on the beach. He was holding the radio over his head and shouting. A huge smile was on his face. 'They found us!'

Coming in fast over the horizon were two airships. Cheering erupted. Serah was hugging me from behind. I couldn't stop staring. It felt surreal. I turned to look at Fang. She couldn't believe it either.

We had been saved.

We were immediately provided blankets and water. Fang was lifted onto a stretcher. We were loaded onto one of the ships, but before the hatch could close, more of the crew came running from the jungle, shouting. One last person needed to be boarded.

It was Yaag Rosch. He had to be rolled in on a stretcher. He was by himself—the only person they could find in the jungle. And he was smiling at me.

**Day 208**

Sazh's son, Dahj, missed his father just as much as his father missed him. Sazh had barely stepped off the plane before the kid shot across the jet field into the man's arms.

The next human projectile was a redheaded girl—she was for Fang. She clung to Fang as if she never wanted to let her go, barely even noticing that Fang was still learning how to balance with the heavy brace on her leg. When I passed them, I could hear the girl crying. Fang was repeating, 'It's all right. I'm okay. I'm okay,' and joking that the girl was going to make her cry too.

I was happy for her. On the plane was the first time I had seen her since we were rescued—she had been sent to a medical center because of her leg, but it was good publicity for us to arrive back to Bodhum together. I'm glad I was able to see her reunite with a loved one.

Cid was waiting further away. He was already talking to Serah. He wrapped his arms around me when I got close enough. He told me how courageous I was and that he had never given up. He had never stopped searching.

As he held me, I looked over my shoulder. Fang was still wrapped in the girl's embrace, but she was staring at us. I wanted to smile at her. I don't know why I didn't. I didn't get a chance to tell her goodbye before the press swooped in and Cid had to lead us to his car, and that thought has been silently killing me.

Cid is upset that I won't let him read this journal.

I've only considered sharing some of the entries with one person. Nora Estheim has a son: Hope. There is a small banquet that Cid is hosting to celebrate the survivors and remember the departed. Hope will be there.

Everyone will be there.

Cid says that he's excited to meet all the people who helped me survive on that island, especially Fang. Snow comes around often to visit Serah. We both mention Fang a lot. Even Cid has started referring to her as my partner in crime. I don't think the term fits. Fang was more like my backbone, at some times even my pulse... I miss her.

From the few stories about our time on the island that he's overheard, Cid thinks it would be powerful if someone read a few excerpts from the journal. When I refuse, he asks if he could skim over it then. He wants to know what I've been through. If it's good, maybe we could even publish it.

I always tell him no. The memories in here are too personal—some of them are even painful.

He asks why I read over it so much then? Why don't I just throw it out if it brings back so much pain?

I tell him because some of the memories are too important to me to forget.

* * *

**A/N:** Hey yall. I know I should be working on Cradle, but this idea kinda popped into my head so I thought I'd write it out. Still not sure whether to leave it as a one shot or to work on it a little bit more, but either way, hope yall enjoy!


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